Monday, May 4, 2009

SUNSHINE AT WHATCOM CREEK

"And if you should conclude from these remarks that I meant to suggest your advice was worthy of a quack, then you have completely misunderstood me, as I have no such thoughts or opinions about you. If, on the other hand, you believe that I would do well to follow your advice literally to become an engraver of invoice headings & visiting cards or a bookkeeper or factotum -- or the advice of my very dear sister Anna to devote myself to the baker's trade or many other suchlike things, curiously at odds and hardly compatible -- you would be making another mistake."

(page 63, from THE LETTERS OF VINCENT VAN GOGH, translated by Arnold Pomerans. This is from a letter of August 1879, written to his brother, Theo. Vincent did his first painting in November of 1881, after spending several years learning to draw rather than taking a job "at odds and hardly compatible."

Although I don't think of Vincent van Gogh as someone who walked in the woods or painted woodlands, I found this from 1882 when he was still living in the north. His woods look oppressive, unlike the vibrant paintings he did in the south of France.

Last night I dreamed that I saw an ad for a job as a medical transcriptionist in the hospital where I used to work. The ad had been placed in a comic strip. I jumped up in excitement at the thought of being employed again. Then I stopped and said to myself, "Hey, wait a minute. Why would I want that job again, much less in a comic strip world?"

Oboe in late April 2018

How can I be useful, of what service can I be? There is something inside me, what can it be? -- Vincent van Gogh (1853-1890)

Welcome to "TALKING 37TH DREAM (RUMORS OF PEACE)".

The photograph currently at the top of my blog was taken on May 8, 2016, at West Beach in Deception Pass State Park in Island County of Washington State. For years after leaving Northern California in 1973, I had a recurring dream that there was an ocean beach not too far south of Bellingham. My joy at discovering that beach in my dreams was offset by my grief that no such beach existed when I woke up. On May 8, 2016, I visited West Beach for the first time with a friend who also grew up in Northern California. West Beach is the beach I dreamed about for so many years. May 8, 2016, was the 29th anniversary of the beginning of my healing in connection with bulimia, anorexia, alcoholism, and the beginning of actively using the creative gifts I had been born with. On May 8, 1987, I spent the entire day driving south on Highway 1, frequently gazing at the Pacific Ocean from Mendocino County to Santa Cruz County when the ocean was visible from the road.

"OLD GIRL OF THE NORTH COUNTRY" (the earliest name for my blog) came to life in early December of 2006 so that I could post a 42-year retrospective of my paintings and drawings and through that action, create a new relationship with the day the man I loved returned from Vietnam in December 1971. For a while (sometime after spring of 2008, which is when he died) my blog was "TALKING 37TH DREAM WITH RAINBOW (RUMORS OF PEACE)". For a number of years, it's been "TALKING 37TH DREAM (RUMORS OF PEACE)." As of April 12, 2017 my blog is now titled "37TH DREAM / TALKING 37TH DREAM (RUMORS OF PEACE/LOOKING UP)".

To begin viewing the retrospective with narrative, scroll down to December 8, 2006, on this page:

How can I be useful, of what service can I be? There is something inside me, what can it be? -- Vincent van Gogh (1853-1890)

I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. This is why right temporarily defeated is stronger than evil triumphant. -- Martin Luther King, Jr. (1929-1968)

All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware. -- Martin Buber (1878-1965)

It is only a little planet, but how beautiful it is.

-- Robinson Jeffers

The true end of a war is the rebirth of life;the right to die peacefully in your own bed.The true end of war is the end of fear;the true end of war is the return of laughter.

-- Alfred Molano

Enjoy every sandwich -- Warren Zevon (1947-2003)

Not in God's wilds will you ever hear the sad moan, "All is vanity." No, we are paid a thousand times for all our toil, and after a single day spent outdoors in their atmosphere of strength and beauty, one could still say, should death come — even without any hope of another life — "Thank you for this most glorious gift!" and pass on.

-- John Muir (1838-1914)

Philip Henslowe: Mr. Fennyman, allow me to explain about the theatre business. The natural condition is one of insurmountable obstacles on the road to imminent disaster. Hugh Fennyman: So what do we do? Philip Henslowe: Nothing. Strangely enough, it all turns out well. Hugh Fennyman: How? Philip Henslowe: I don't know. It's a mystery.